


The Sacrament Kneeling

by LittleObsessions



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: Euphamism, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Married Life, References to Oscar Wilde, Weapons, notentirelyserioius, sweepingreligiousmetaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:01:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28656912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleObsessions/pseuds/LittleObsessions
Summary: "If only they knew, she thinks, eyeing up the rapier her husband parries with, a waltz with his own energy and fixation and passion. He is incredibly skilled when it comes to wielding his favourite weapon."
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	The Sacrament Kneeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LanntheQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanntheQueen/gifts).



> A gift for Whythankyouthing, to ensure there remains no doubt as to my position on Morticia's proclivities....

There are a great number of things she considers below her; gossip, wifely-compliance, pulp-fiction, polyester.

And yet, there are base things she adores. And all the better for their baseness.

Or perhaps for their celestial nature.

Swords, for example, are a base weapon that it would be startling for most respectable women to realise she is _incredibly_ fond of.

Often, her silence is mistaken for aloofness, her grace mistaken for pretension. Her reticence often mistaken for an absence of fondness. There are whispers of her hardness and cruelty throughout their set, though they are silent in her presence. And in turn she maintains her silence too and lets them think of her exactly as they please.

What they do not realise, really, is that she’s a very spiritual woman...all things considered.

That being said she means to make no justification for her spirit, and the delightful thing about being his wife is that she does not have to justify it to anyone. Not even herself. And certainly not him.

If only they knew, she thinks, eyeing up the rapier her husband parries with, a waltz with his own energy and fixation and passion. He is _incredibly_ skilled when it comes to wielding his most cherished weapon.

Her tongue glazes her lips as she watches him from behind her book, pretending she is not watching at all.

Pretending worship and war isn’t at the forefront of her thoughts always.

She cannot take her eyes from the flashing, incisive weapon as it cuts through the hot air of their bedroom, catching against the light of the fire. It’s such an entirely deadly weapon, not least of all when it’s wielded by him.

No, most _especially_ when it’s wielded by him.

It is a joy between them to pretend she is not an admirer of weaponry, or indeed of taking a sword in hand, or that she won’t submit to his celestial prowess when he stands before her, far more skilled with a sword than she ever hopes to be.

Not that, ultimately, she would _want_ to be.

But rest assured she does her best. 

It’s a sizeable thrill to play the part of the dissenter, nonetheless. To pretend she will not submit to the saber, to feign revolt while indulging entirely and all at once. To play the role of the heretic. 

When she does take it in hand though, steel-kisses, she is absolutely as adept as any woman would want to be. In the face of any weapon – but most especially his - she is elegant with worship, and delighted with it too. And her mouth moves diligently to prayer.

In her possession it becomes hers, and womanly prowess rather trumps the absolute iron strength of male will.

In her hands, in her mouth; sheer artistry.

“Gomez?”

He ceases instantly and looks at her. She crooks a finger and climbs off of their bed and sinks to her knees in abject supplication. 

She is hungry for a duel. Thirsting for veneration.

And he grins demonically, tossing the weapon aside.

If only they truly knew how willing she was, how willingly low Mrs Addams would sink for that lovely rapier. And in doing so, be elevated to a cosmic body.

Oscar Wilde once wrote that “Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling…”

There are a great number of things she considers below her; gossip, wifely-compliance, pulp-fiction, polyester.

But genuflection is certainly _not_ one of them.


End file.
